“You nervous about graduation next week?” Sarah sat next to me and grabbed the other game controller. “Afraid you’ll trip over an untied lace and smash your face onto the stage right before they hand you your diploma? And then everyone will be watching as you try and get up. Oh my God, and then you’ll trip again.”
After pausing the game, I craned my head toward her, completely fascinatedby the little story she’d created in her head. “That’s quite detailed. Did you think that up on the spot, or have you been sketching it out all day?” I laughed as I reset the game so she could join.
She chuckled as she crossed her legs under her body. Around the handful of popcorn she’d just shoved in her mouth, she muttered, “Just came up with it. I’m awesome like that.” Reaching across to mynightstand, she stole my bottle of water and chugged down half of it. “So are you? Nervous?”
Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know. Not really. Though now I’ll double check my shoes, just in case.” We played a few minutes of the video game before I paused it and turned toward her. “Can I tell you something?”
She nodded excitedly, making her look more like a bobble head figure than a human. “You can’ttell anyone.” She made a motion like she was zippering her lips shut. “Not even Patrick,” I clarified. She crossed her heart and hoped to die while I had a momentary crisis of morals. I couldn’t officially say I was the type to kiss and tell because I’d never kissed before, but I was nearly vibrating with excitement over last night’s developments and I had to tell someone.
And there was no oneI could trust more than my sister. “I promise, Quinn.” She offered me her pinky and I took it, knowing she would never in her life break a pinky swear to her big brother.
“Remember how I said I didn’t know if he was gay?” I didn’t even have to mention his name; she knew exactly who I was talking about. There was no mistaking the excitement in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to make itseem as if she was unaffected by even this tiny tidbit of information. “Yeah, he’s definitely gay.”
“I knew it,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together over her heart. “What else? Tell me more? How do you know?” As I searched for the words to explain exactly how I knew without revealing all too much, realization dawned in her pretty little head. “Oh. My. God.” She sounded every bit like JanicefromFriends.“So is he like your boyfriend now?” There was no teasing or taunting, just genuine happiness.
A smile split my lips at her label and as much as I wanted it to be true, I didn’t know for certain. “I don’t know. We didn’t do much talking.”
“Oh really?” She drew out her question, sounding every bit like the teenage girl she was. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. We shared a laughand continued with the game. “Do you want him to be your boyfriend?”
I considered her question and it seemed so confusing. “I’d be lying if I said no, but we’re both starting college in the fall.”
“Is he going far away? Patrick never mentioned Ryan’s plans so I don’t know.”
I wanted to ask her so many questions: Why was she with him? Was he actually a decent guy? How come he treats his brotherlike shit? But that was another conversation for another time. “No, he actually got into a really great trade school not too far away. He’s going to live at home until he can save up some money for his own place.”
“So what’s the problem exactly?” She paused the game once again and turned toward me. “He’s going to be home and so are you. And then even when he does get his own place it won’t betoo far away.” Her phone buzzed, but she didn’t pay it more than two seconds of attention. After she tucked it back into her pocket, she said, “Look, if the two of you like each other, at least give it the summer and see how it goes.”
Maybe it was just as simple as that. “Maybe. I guess I still haven’t wrapped my head around everything that happened,” I admitted.
She giggled and elbowed me inthe side. “And what exactlydidhappen?” she prodded.
“Not tonight. Nice try though.” I elbowed her back as she moved to pull her phone out of her pocket.
“It’s Marissa,” she explained without moving her eyes from the screen. “Boy drama.” She finally looked up as she tucked her phone away. “Raincheck on kicking your ass?” she joked, tipping her head toward the PlayStation. “And maybe a littlemore information about yourboyfriend?” she taunted as she walked up the stairs.
“Right, like you’d kick my ass,” I said to myself.
From the top of the stairs, she yelled out, “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry.” And then she was gone, off to take care of her best friend’s boy drama while I sat here trying to figure out my own.
Floating somewhere between awake and asleep, I heard what sounded like a scratch on the outside door. “Oh shit,” I cursed. Panic rose in my chest. The last time I heard a noise like that, a damn raccoon made its way through a broken part of the doorframe. Scrambling from the bed, I grabbed a dumbbell and stalked up the stairs. Holding it like a baseball bat, I was poised and ready to go. Myheart skipped a beat when I heard another scratch. Hoping it would scurry away as soon as it heard me, I reached for the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open.
The last thing I expected to see was Ryan, kneeling on the cement platform outside the door, searching around like a blind man for his dropped key. “A little late for a booty call, don’t you think?” I joked.
He craned his head uptoward me slowly. It was then I realized he was wearing a heavy black hoodie, as if the warm summer air would make him cold. As his face passed through a sliver a moonlight, what I saw made my stomach clench in anger. “Oh my God. What the hell happened to you?” Moving carefully in the darkness, I stepped toward him and looped my arm through his. It was awkward, but I made sure to hold onto him aswe both walked down the stairs to my bedroom. “Careful,” I warned. “These two steps squeak like crazy. I don’t want anyone to hear you.” Once we were in my room, I turned on a light and saw the face of the boy my heart ached for, battered and bruised almost beyond recognition. Scared out of my mind, I helped him sit on the bed. “Stay right here,” I instructed. When I was no more than half a step awayfrom him, he reached for my arm. Even his hand was bruised and cut up. “Don’t leave me, please,” he begged.
“Never,” I swore as I gently held his hand. I was so fucking afraid to hurt him even more. “I just want to get some help.”
As if he’d summoned back all the strength whoever this monster was who beat it out of him, he rose from the bed and grabbed me by my shoulders. “No!” he demanded.“You can’t get anyone. Please, I’m begging you. Please don’t tell anyone.”
I wanted to deliberate. I wanted to convince him to go to the police, or at least let my mom come down to help him. I wanted to rage against whoever put their hands on him. But the pain in his eyes was enough of a command for me to follow. “Okay.” I choked on the word. “But please let me just get some stuff to help cleanyou up. Make sure everything is okay.”
He nodded and lowered himself back down onto the edge of the bed. As I walked away, I swore I heard him say, “Nothing will ever be okay,” but I was too worried about the gash above his eyebrow to ask him to repeat himself.
As quickly and as quietly as I possibly could, I grabbed some basic first aid stuff out of the bathroom and hoped to God I didn’t wakeanyone up. On my way back to the basement, I grabbed two bottles of water and prayed that he hadn’t left in the time it took me to get everything I needed.
I never should have left him alone.
My heart settled back into place as I walked down the stairs and caught the shadow his legs cast across the floor. I sat next to him and opened the peroxide. Very gingerly, I patted over the cuts on hisface. His eye was already starting to swell shut and it was such a dark shade of purple, it almost looked black. His lip was split and just as I thought, the gash slicing through his eyebrow definitely needed stitches. Because I knew he would never go, instead of suggesting a trip to the hospital, I opened a few butterfly bandages and did my best to close it as much as possible. Pulling his knotted-togetherhands from his lap, I cleaned what I could from them. There was dirt and small rocks embedded in his skin and even though he winced in pain, I made sure to get them all out. His right hand was much worse than his left, making me think he must have put up a pretty good fight. After wrapping it with some gauze—individual Band-Aids never would have worked—I gently kissed the top of his handas I held it in mine.
